


Home Is Where The Heart Is

by SpaceOut



Series: Onward. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Why is he Jewish you ask? Because I wanted him to.), (for like 3 seconds), A singular panic attack but one nevertheless, Author Remus Lupin, Dumbledore Is Not Happy But He Isn't Evil, Gay Remus Lupin, Gen, Hand Waving British Law, Hand Waving Magic, Harry Is Dealing With Trauma, Harry Is Kind of A Genius?, Harry Potter Runs Away, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Rasism, Jewish Remus Lupin, Librarian Remus Lupin, Multi, Muslim characters, POC Harry Potter, Panic Attacks, Referenced Genderfluid Character, Remus Lupin Raises Harry, okay that's enough tags for now tell me if i should add more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13073991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceOut/pseuds/SpaceOut
Summary: Harry runs away from his life at the Dursley's at eight, from there he encounters not only magic and old family friends, but his family too.Or, in other words: Remus Lupin was not prepared to become a dad, especially to his dead friends' son, but here he is.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> so i took creative writing and this was my semester project and my teacher was like "uh, this seems stupid" at first, but when she read it she was like,,,,"not bad" which is high praise from her when it comes to anything other than traditional writings

When Harry Potter was five he learned a simple rule: fend for yourself. He had to get his own food now, his own baths, his own education because his aunt and uncle saw no reason to give a head start to a boy they were sure would amount to nothing. (He eventually started in what would be his second primary year.)

From age five, really starting closer to seven, he started to collect things he was sure he’d need. For a runaway, for a boy who needs a free afternoon, or for a boy who simply needs something other than mean words and a list of chores.

There were basics on his list: non-perishable food, water bottles, a flashlight, and a backpack. Then there was stuff that most seven year olds wouldn’t think of: extra clothes, stolen cash, stolen library card, a map of the city, country, and London, a list of hotlines to call, and everything in between. 

He wasn’t just some boy running away from his family- he was some boy running away from his abusers. Things only got worse as he got older, starting with words filled with anger and brutality, to full on punches, to the ground. 

Dudley, honestly, wasn’t terrible. He acted quite horrid in front of his parents- not wanting to deal with what Harry had dealt with for his whole life, but when the moment came for Harry to sneak out, Dudley handed him an extra pack with a cell phone and a stuffed wallet. 

Harry hugged Dudley for the first time at age eight, and his cousin wished him good luck- and made sure of the knowledge: “I have that number on my other phone, I had Ms. Bott see if there was a tracker- there wasn’t, Harry, don’t die.” Harry choked back tears, even for all that Dudley had been a right and well bully to him, he understood. 

“I’ll try my best.”

Four months after his eighth birthday, Harry sets out under the ruse of school and disappears from the little suburb he had called home. 

\--

He always knew he was weird, Harry thought, stepping onto the bus of another school’s stop- one that led to a spot right outside London (it was only about an hour’s walk from one place to the other), but he didn’t know he was so weird that even kids he didn’t know stared at him with wide eyes the size of planets. 

Adjusting his jacket, Harry simply put his head to the window of the bus. Whatever, maybe it was because of his dark skin- Uncle Vernon wasn’t a fan, maybe it was the scar- Aunt Petunia’s least favorite physical attribute, or maybe it was the fact that he had two bookbags on him and round glasses with tape in the middle. Maybe he just looked like a huge nerd. 

Yeah, Harry was going with that one.

Ten minutes into the ride, a boy with bright red hair grinned at him and hopped seats. “You’re Harry Potter! What are you doin’ on a bus to a muggle school? Have you no tutor? Or is your family obsessed with muggles too?”

Spinning his head so quick it nearly gave him whiplash, Harry asked, “How do you know m- that name?”

“You’re famous,” The boy leaned in close to him, “you know, in the wizarding world. Obviously. Don’t you know?”

This, Harry decided, was one of those people Uncle Vernon thought should go to the madhouse. Harry thought they should get therapy. But the idea stood. This boy was crazy.

“There’s no such thing as wizards,” Harry said as empathetically as he could. “Are you feeling quite alright?”

The boy’s eyes got wider. “Don’t tell me, ooh, not a word! You don’t know!? George, can you believe this?” There was a thunk from the seat behind the two of them, Harry glanced back to see- they looked exactly the same. Were they twins? Harry had to do a double take. 

“Harry Potter doesn’t know? Geeze. We should right well tell him shouldn’t we? He’s dear Ronnikins age, they’d be in the same class- get him a bit of a buffer before the letter, aye?” The boy- George as it seemed, said. 

Harry, point blank, was terrified. They hadn’t be much older than him, he suspected, perhaps a year or two, but….they were tall and he was small and they were nutters and no one in the back of the bus seemed to mind a word to what they were saying.

“I am just getting a pit stop to the library, your bus to school makes it a bit more convenient.” He quickly thought for a story for why he was there. Perhaps he should choose a pseudonym to go by until he finds a stable shelter or something of the sort. “I don’t think I’m the Harry Potter you’re thinking of.” He wracked his brain for names. “My full name is Harrien Anthony Potter-Kent. My, uh, dad was a fan of superheroes. His name was Bruce Kent so it made sense. Ha.” His palms were sweating he was only eight he wasn’t prepared for this.

The boy next to him- not George, whoever he was, leant in real close. “You have a lightning scar- how’d you get that?”

“Car accident,” He was thankful not to lie about that one.

“Fred, I think we just broke that Statue of Secrecy.” George said with a swear. “What’s the spell?”

“Oblivate!” Fred made a vague hand movement to Harry, evidently hoping that he would forget about it. Harry went along with it. “Uh, remember anything?”

“I don’t remember when you sat down, what’s your name? Mine’s Harrien- but everyone calls me Harry.” Harry gulped. 

“Hi, I’m Fred, that’s George-” Fred pointed out.

“And we’re twins,” They said at the same time.

Harry prayed a thought of thanks to whatever god or gods listened to his need of help. 

“Sweet.”

\--

Harry, after that incident, did in fact make it to the library he was hoping to find- but he had missed the local services there that were supposed to help kids in bad situations. He didn’t want to call the hotline because phones can be intercepted- he saw it once in a movie. He doesn’t want Uncle Vernon to find him, gods above only know how bad he’ll be beaten for this play. 

He decided eventually to just go to the kids’ section and work out a plan. Hopefully they’d just think he’s playing with maps.

The place was huge, and modern, so every wall seemed to have a window. It was a mix of light and dark colors, generally dulled reds and greens, but it...seemed almost suffocating.

Hours later, right around when it was truly silent for most people’s lunch break, a tall man came up to him with a librarian badge. He had light, curly brown hair, pale skin, and scars across his face. (He also wore a light blue sweater with dark green pants? Poor fashion.) He seemed so terribly familiar. And that wasn’t a good thing.

“Harry, do the Dursleys know you’re here?” The man said, sitting down next to him. Harry felt a wave of panic travel over him, and squeeze the air out of his lungs. “Harry?”

He was hardly able to breathe, so he quickly shook his head. This guy must have been- ugh, he didn’t know. A co-worker of Uncle Vernon’s for a while? A gardener next door? And oh no, he was going to get turned in and forced to go back and be beaten and-

“Harry Potter, take a deep breath, I won’t tell them for right now. Don’t panic,” The man pulled out a couple sweets from his bag. “Fancy a piece of chocolate? It’s said to be rather calming.”

Harry was still panicked, but under the assurance that the Dursleys wouldn’t be called quite yet, he took a deep breath and reached for the sweet. He was, he thought dryly, eight after all. 

Once he and the man had finished their respective pieces of chocolate, Harry asked hesitantly, “Why aren’t you turning me in? I know you- which means you know the Dursleys.”

The man worried his lip for a moment before sighing. “I check in when I can Harry- I’m not a friend of your aunt or uncle, I was a friend of your fathers.”

Oh, swell, friend of the drunkard. That’s even more reassuring. Harry’s panic level was rising again. Well….if the Uncle Vernon was to be believed. (Perhaps the man deserved a chance.)

“And I know the Dursleys aren’t the best of people- I’ve been working a case against them for years, but no one seems to listen. My name’s Remus Lupin, when you were little, you’d call me Moony.”

Harry blinked, getting an odd image from a long time ago of a younger version of the man before him. It was blurry and old but...Familiar nonetheless. 

“If….My father was a drunk, Mr. Lupin, I dunno if I should….” Harry trailed off- they were in a public place, but...there weren’t that many people around. It could be very dangerous.

“Your father wasn’t a drunk, Harry,” Remus’ voice seemed to catch. “He was a good man in terrible times. What did- what did your aunt and uncle tell you about your family?”

“Nothing good. They were bad people, freaks, like me…” Harry rubbed his wrist- a spot where just yesterday Uncle Vernon had dragged him by his wrist up the stairs to tell him to do chores and shout scathing insults. 

When he looked up again, Remus looked like he was about to cry. “You’re not a freak, you are not a bad person- and neither were your parents. Lily and James Potter were some of the best people I’ve ever met…Have you ever had something odd happen to you, something you can’t explain?”

Harry didn’t know where this was going, but he went with it. Because, for some reason, he did truly feel safe with the man. Maybe it was just his demeanor, maybe it was because they really did use to be friendly when he was a baby. “Yes...Odd things happened, very odd...I understood a snake...I ended up on a rooftop while running on the ground.” He looked up sharply. “Don’t send me to a loony house, please, Mister. I’m not crazy.”

“I know, Harry, I know,” Remus nodded seriously. Even in the outrageously small kids chairs, the man looked as serious as he’d ever seen anyone. “It’s not….Because you’re crazy, it’s magic. Your mother and father were wizards.”

Harry thought back to the kids on the bus. Fred and George. “You’re the second person to tell me that today. Next you’re going to say I’m famous.”

“You are,” the man slowly, showing his intention clearly, rested his hand on Harry’s arm. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re a wizard too. As am I, come to think of it.”

Harry was hesitant- who wouldn’t be? It was...Impossible to think about. “Prove it. Prove anything you just said. Everything.”

Remus looked conflicted for a moment before looking around, evidently deciding the coast was clear, pulling out a stick and pointing it at the wrapper. The wrapper turned into a pen. Then he promptly put the stick away and handed Harry the pen. “Magic.”

He then dug into his bag and pulled out his wallet, then a picture from it. A moving picture. The picture was of Remus himself, a man who looked an awful lot like Harry, and a baby in the guy-who-was-probably-his-father’s arms. They were all smiling. Even the baby version of himself. “James, you, and I. Three months after you were born...Believe me?”

Harry then burst out in tears. For a beat, Remus looked panicked, but opened his arms for Harry. With little hesitance, he fell into the hug and continued to cry. It was just...so much. Too much. Today he was expecting to get away from his terrible family, not run into two mini wizards, a tall wizard who was friends with his dad who seemed super nice, and find out he was a wizard all in the same blow. He had the right to cry.

“Shh, Harry, it’s alright. Hassan, we’ll work everything out. You’ll be safe. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder, but it’ll be fine now. Okay? James and Lily would be so proud.” Remus said quietly, rubbing circles on Harry’s back. It took a few minutes for Harry to calm down, but eventually he pulled away and apologized.

“There’s no need to apologize. I- let me tell my boss I need the rest of the day off, then we’ll go straight to the police station and work something out.” Remus stood up and offered a hand to Harry, who gave him a face. “Alright, I should have suspected from the map and the prepared bags- you don’t need someone to hold your hand. Follow me?”

Harry picked up his bags and nodded. “I...We’re walking to the police station, right? Broad daylight.”

Remus nodded. “If you want I can even call them directly here, I...I know I’m a stranger to you. But you’re- you’re James son, and, pardon me, but I’ll be damned before I let you go back to those horrid muggles.”

Muggles sounded an awful lot like a slur. “No, I can walk. Whatsa’ muggle?” They didn’t get too many odd looks from the people around them- in fact, he was pretty sure they just thought he should be in school. 

“A muggle is a person who doesn’t have magic, Americans call them no-majs, it’s like...being white or black, right? It’s something you’re born into. No better nor worse than anyone else, just a fact of life...Don’t let anyone fool you into thinking otherwise.”

Harry was mildly confused, but generally understood. “If you knew about my family, why didn’t you do something sooner?”

They turned a corner. “It’s a bit complicated, I’m afraid. I was building a case...But I didn’t know how bad it was, I tried to call social services a great many times but those-” He cut himself off before he said something terrible. “They fed you lies and nothing else, didn’t they? I- I should have done something sooner I should have-”

“You at least tried,” Harry whispered, but it seemed to echo, making Remus spin around. With wide, teary again eyes, Harry said, “You tried and you wanted to help, you noticed, you did something, that’s- that’s more than anyone’s ever done for me. Don’t beat yourself up so much.”

Remus took a deep breath and kneeled down in front of Harry, both of them right in front of his boss’ office, in fact through the window his boss was probably watching them. “I tried. Yes. And I have only seen you in passing for two years since I’ve discovered where you were, I never once stopped by to talk to you, I should have, I should have...offered myself a babysitter to you and your cousin. Claim to be a muggle myself. I need you to understand that...I’m not always the best person about this, I try my best, I really do, but I’m god-awful at it. You deserve so much more than what you’ve gotten. Your parents would have wrung my neck.”

Harry took a shaky breath and nodded. Not quite believing that he deserved more. He- he didn’t deserve some things the Dursleys did, he knew that, but some things…

“I’m going to try and redeem myself. I...I think I’m listed as some third or fourth godparent. I’ll- I’ll take care of you Harry, just as soon as we can get a court jurisdiction and- nevermind. You’re only eight, you- I’ll handle it. Don’t worry anymore, okay?” Remus’ brown eyes shone bright with tears.

Harry looked at the pen in his hand, then back up at Remus. “Promise me, promise me that you aren’t lying. That you aren’t giving me false hope.” 

[Remus’ heart broke in half. No one should have to say something so- so potent in the face of the future.]

“I cross my heart and swear to die,” Remus said, making the hand motions. 

Harry handed him the pen. “Then we better talk to your boss.”

\--

Half an hour later Remus and Harry sat side by side at the police station where a young officer, a short black man named Rey, took their statements and gave Harry a PB&J- food that Remus learned was Harry’s first meal in days. 

Rey spoke softly and made kind jokes and made Harry laugh. He also spoke to Remus separately, asking him how everything went down from his perspective, but only for a short while because Remus’ eyes kept glancing back to where Harry was. 

Harry...Harry when he was by himself had to take deep breaths to stay calm, his hands white-knuckled on either side of his chair. It...It was a lot. It was all very overwhelming and he didn’t really know how to handle it. His instincts said to trust Remus. To trust Rey. They were the same instincts that kept him alive until then. 

Thankfully, when Remus and Rey came back, Harry managed to get a grip on his emotions. “Social services should be here within the hour- they’ve already pulled up information on the lot of you. They ask that you stay in the building until they can get here...It looks good. With both of your testimonies, plus any previous reports, it’s...A solid case. Harry, you’re a 100% sure that your cousin wasn’t affected?”

Harry nodded, “I’m pretty sure. They didn’t like me because of my dad, Dudley’s...white, I guess.” And not a wizard, which turned out to be a big reason, Remus had explained to him. But he thought of the comparison to muggles and well…

Rey had a pinched look on his face, but nodded. “I’m glad you got out, kid. Want anything else before I go and file this?”

Harry looked over at Remus, then shyly looked back at Rey. “Do you hav’a cuppa? I...Stress.”

“Not a problem. Two cubes and milk?”

“Please.” 

Once Rey disappeared, Harry turned to Remus and had the sudden urge to just- sit closer. Be closer. To- he had more hugs that day than he’d had in what felt like years. Maybe it was. Remus’ blue sweater was very comfy, and he was warm and the place was freezingandhe-

“You alright, Hassan?” Remus asked softly, but somehow still easily heard despite the chaos of the coppers. 

Harry looked down at his feet- decent shoes, actually, Dudley outgrew them really quick. “Ijustkindahaven’tbeenhuggedalotanditwasniceandIkindawantahug.”

“You are such a Potter, but I swear, you picked up some of S--” Remus flinched as if he had been hit. “--Some of your other godfather’s habits. I have no hesitation to hugging you, come here.”

Remus opened his arms and Harry happily slid into them, laying across the two chairs to lay down a bit.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Settling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry Wants To Learn the smash hit by definitely not jk rowling

Verdict: Remus should have been contacted immediately upon the death of the Potters, Pettigrew, and imprisonment of Black, therefore he has full rights to Harry to begin with, and with the added testimonies, Harry is set to live with Remus Lupin until the legal age of eighteen.

He would never be able to thank Lily enough, should they meet again, for having everything transferred over in muggle law. If not he’d have had gone through the Ministry, and Merlin knows that would have been a flop if he’d ever heard one. Dumbledore...the man was brilliant, but he was a General, he saw black and white. The wards that Dumbledore had raved to him about- when the news of James and Lily’s deaths came out -were that if placed with blood relatives, he would be protected, should he call the place home.

Remus remained jaw-locked at the mere notion that Dumbledore thought that Harry could even dare to call that place a house, let alone home. Oh, dear Founders, should he even look at Dumbledore before Harry doesn’t flinch at every loud noise…

Nevertheless.

It had been a quick, trial only a three hour court case, since the guilty were aware of the fact and didn’t deny it. And the totality of the move had only taken three days. 

It was when everything was said and done did Remus start to really panic. He was well and good with the apartment- he had a room that he used as an office for when he wrote, that could be turned into Harry’s bedroom, it was pretty child safe, no major problems considering sharp edges and the likes, it had both muggle and wizarding items, and it was warded like a real bastard-- his secret keeper was Bill Weasley, no one would ever think of that. (It was a long story, one concerning knives, potions, and a dog named Jonse.)

But the biggest two problems were huge: 1) he was a werewolf, how was he going to both work around that and explain it to Harry? 2) Dumbledore and the ministry would end him if they ever found out that Harry was gone. 

The second one, actually, happened to be the easiest fix….but perhaps a hard one to maintain. Stay in muggle-only zones. Glamor Harry for when they need to go into a wizarding area. Merlin, he’s going to have to teach the boy about Quidditch. Teach him about Hogwarts. About- everything. 

Remus stopped breathing for a moment when he realized: he was the only Marauder left- he was going to be a father to Harry Potter. He was going to raise this kid under a Lupin jurisdiction, a hyphenated name.

….Hassan James Potter-Lupin. But to the general public? Harry Lupin. 

That’s a heavier weight to his shoulders than the war ever was. (What that said about his character, he prefered not to reflect on.)

He only noticed he was pacing in the laundry room (from when he attempted to actually do the laundry earlier) in the middle of the night when he heard the door from his bedroom creak (the one where Harry was momentarily stationed), and the young Harry say quietly, “Mister- er, Rem- er…..I….What do I call you?”

Remus had a feeling that was not the reason Harry ventured out, but he let it slide for the moment. Spinning on his heel with a smile, he said, “I’m not too sure. How about we get you a glass of milk and we can talk about it, is that alright?”

Harry, clad in his new blue pajamas, nodded and shuffled over to the kitchen where Remus was heading. The kitchen wasn’t a grand affair, it had a little island in the middle with stools on one side, grays and browns covering the cabinets and tiles, it was...very British. 

Pulling out the milk jug, Remus spoke, “I’d rather you not call me mister, we’re technically family, after all. But, quite frankly, it’s what you’re comfortable with. Names only have the power in which we give them, call your cousin, for instance, Dud, it could mean a rather daft young man, or, it could be a kindly given nickname.”

He finished pouring the milk and slid the glass over to where Harry was waiting, sitting atop one of the stools, then he went to pour himself a glass while he waited for Harry to speak. He wouldn’t press the boy, at least, he wouldn’t try to.

It was only when Remus finally took a sip of his drink, did Harry speak. “I dunno. Legally....You’re my dad. If my parents were alive, I’d’ve probably called you Uncle. I hadn’t met you but a week ago...I- when we first really met, at the library, you said I’d called you something when I was little, what was that?”

(Remus felt a wave of happiness from Harry being so open, after the first day….He’d gotten terribly shy, closed off, and rather afraid to speak as a whole. Not uncommon, but heartbreaking after seeing him speak so freely at the library.) “You called me Moony. I- well, it’s a rather long story, one for daytime I’m sure. But it was a school nickname, in fact, I believe it was your father who coined the term.”

“Why….Why don’t I call you that then. Somewhere in the grey, not dad, not Uncle, but Moony?” Harry suddenly hunched over, not making eye contact, but staring resolutely at his glass of milk. “I mean, if you want, I don’t want to be too imposing I just- well, I-”

“Harry, kid, look at me, don’t be scared,” Remus bent down just a little over the counter so Harry didn’t have to look up so far to look him in the eye. “Moony sounds like a wonderfully grey spot. And it doesn’t have to be permanent if you don’t want it to be, you’d just have to tell me of the change if you ever want to switch it.”

Harry nodded, a tiny smile on his face. A tiny face that had a milk mustache. With a laugh, Remus grabbed a napkin and handed it to his- his kid. Merlin, gray areas abound. “Why don’t you wipe your face off so we can get you back to bed? We have some very important shopping to do tomorrow...And a wonderful sweets shoppe to stop by.”

With wide eyes, Harry quickly wiped off his face, jumped down from the stool, grabbed his cup, placed it in the sink, then bounded over to where Remus was opening the door for him. 

(The night previous, the first one that had been spent in Remus’ apartment, since the night before that it was spent with an officer in a hotel room, had been an interesting endeavor. Harry, due to those damned muggles, hadn’t ever been tucked into bed before, let alone told a story before bed like typical kids. It had taken a total of fifteen minutes of pleading for Harry to finally let Remus tuck him into bed, and another five to let him tell a story, the whole time the boy swearing up and down it wasn’t necessary. To which, of course, Remus replied, “It may not be necessary, but I want to.” There had been a few tears, but overall, the night had been a success.)

After Remus had tucked Harry in and told him quietly about his plans about the next day, Remus kissed the boy on the forehead and wandered back out into the living room. He looked at the calendar with a resigned look- he had three weeks for his “furry little problem” to have a solution. He’d have to call in some favors.

\--

 

The next day Remus Lupin woke up to the sound of water running, scrunching up his eyebrows, he pulled the blanket off of him and peeled himself off the couch to go see what was going on. “Harry? What are you doing in there?”

“Chores?” Came the reply.

With still squinty eyes, Remus walked into the kitchen to find Harry doing the dishes. “Why?”

“Because...I need to pay my keep?” Harry said the words like they were recited. 

Running a hand over his face, Remus groaned, then looked down at the now mildly anxious looking Harry. “Oh, no, I- it’s not you. It’s not you at all. But, please, don’t do the dishes, not now at least. Especially not for that reason. You’ll not be paying any rent while you’re under my roof, whether that be chores or cash.” Damn those Dursleys. Damn them all to hell- well, not the young one, he had no choice in the matter. But that oaf of a man and his nitty wife? To hell with them.

“I- what?” Harry turned off the sink. “But I- I’m not your real son or nothin’. I just…”

Remus bent down to look Harry in the eyes, holding up his hands for Harry to place his own on. “You’re my kid now. And, Hassan James Potter-Lupin, I swear on my mother’s grave, that if you ever try and escape my genuine care for your well being again, I will cry. It will not be a pretty cry. I will sound like a dying whale. I will cuddle you like a teddy bear in my time of need.”

Harry, the contradictory kid he is, decided to giggle. A giggle to which Remus rolled his eyes at. “I’m trying to be sentimental here, kid, you can’t just giggle and escape the duties of a real wizard to be.”

“And what are those?”

“Letting the wizard who has already been to school take care of things,” he stood up, pulling his wand from his ever present pocket, pointed at the dishes, and said, “Scourgify!”

The dishes started to clean, allowing them to float about for a while, then settle back on the counter, clean as ever before. With another flick of his wand, the dishes were putting themselves back in the cabinets. 

“Woah,” Harry whispered in amazement.

“See?” Harry spun around to look up at Remus with a grin.

“That’s so cool! Can I learn?”

Remus laughed, putting his wand back in the pocket, “Not yet, I’m afraid. You have to be in school for a little while before you can do that charm, it’s on the more complicated side, even for first years. I can, however, teach you a couple other things when we get back. From breakfast. And shopping. Sound right to you?”

Harry nodded his head quickly. “Should I get dressed?”

“Unless you’d like to go out in your pajamas. Which is alright with me, I just think it’d be a little cold.”

In a gust of wind, Harry was off to get dressed, leaving Remus by himself in the kitchen, light streaming through the windows on a rare British sunny day. “I think I’m going to cry whether or not he disregards my care for his well being.”

 

\--

“London is beautiful,” Harry whispered as they walked through the streets. “Crazy maybe, but beautiful.”

Remus looked around with a grin, it was rather nice, wasn't it? It seemed nicer since Harry arrived, he noted mildly. “Wait till we visit the underground, then you'll truly know crazy.”

Harry made a face, then laughed a bit. “My book characters always complained about the underground! They said it smelled, is it really true?”

Remus made an exaggerated disgusted face, channeling his inner child, “Like cows.”

Harry stuck out his tongue then said, “Oh, yuck! And we're going down there?”

“‘Fraid we must at some point, Hassan, but luckily not today.”

They were quietly walking to the shopping center for a moment, before Harry piped up, “Why do you keep calling me Hassan? I….I don't mind, but, why?”

Remus blinked quickly, even stopping for a moment, “Because it's your name? I- well, Sirius,” he flinched a bit, even saying the name of the man he had once trusted, “Sirius misheard your father when they named you, and, well, Harry stuck. But your full name is Hassan James Potter, and well, Lupin too now.”

Harry looked up at him with wide eyes, “Is….isn't that an Arabic name?”

“You're Arabic, your father’s family was from India and the Middle East,” Remus wracked his brain to remember. “You're named after the poet who recorded what the prophet Muhammad said. I think, it's been some time since I've heard about it, I'm afraid.”

“No wonder they didn't like me,” Harry muttered, quietly, and heartbreakingly if Remus had any say in the matter. “I...I thought they didn't like me because of not only my parents...but because of my skin, and- and, Moony, they- they thought-” to Remus’ horror, Harry began to quietly cry. “I'm surprised they didn't kill me- they told me that- that Arab people they- they-”

Remus locked his jaw in efforts not to scream in anger, instead he decided to crouch down in front of Harry, offering his arms for a hug, just like he had done back at the library. And just like at the library, Harry fell into his arms and began to cry. “Oh, oh, Harry they didn't deserve you. I'm so, so sorry you had to go through that. There is nothing wrong with where your family is from. Nothing wrong at all. Nothing is wrong with you, you know that, mustn't you?”

“But- they always said that- that-” 

Remus glanced around and cast a quick muggle repelling charm, then looked at Harry, right in the eyes. “They were very dumb people, okay? They didn't understand. Not a single bit. No one should hate you for being you, if you're not hurting anyone, and if you're not hurting yourself, they have no room for judgement at all. You understand?”

Harry hesitantly nodded. Remus decided the topic of ingrained racism was for another time. Not here, not in the middle of the sidewalk- even with the muggle repelling charm. But he did need to say something else. “I- I’m not the best with words, I’m afraid, that was always your father’s area of expertise, but, you need to know that I do not tolerate hate of others, not for something they cannot control. That includes hate of yourself- it- it is something we must both work on, I’m afraid.”

When he said that, something in Harry’s viewing of him shifted, he was sure- those eyes weren’t an easy read, but they changed, for good or for worse, Remus had no clue. 

“Let’s go to here, shall we? I want pudding,” Remus said, ushering Harry to a little cafe.

Harry wiped his eyes and smiled.

\--

Eventually, they had gotten back from their shopping adventure, with only a couple times that Remus had to tell Harry- “Yes, kiddo, you can ask to have that, I don’t mind. You’ll get a yes or a no, and that, is a yes.” Or- “Please, Hassan, take a deep breath, you’re fine, alright? You’re- no, I don’t do corporeal punishment. I find it barbaric. Nevertheless, what you did deserve, at most, an apology to the store worker.”

Overall, however, it was a successful trip. They got clothes, extra food, a stuffed animal, and they had an extra bed and desk being shipped in soon...It was a hefty sum on Remus’ checkbook, he’d have to take on a few extra hours at the library, but it was worth it. Especially with the fact that when they got back from shopping, Harry was talking about all the different types of people he saw. Women with dark and light skin, a few having hijabs, men with dark and light skin, a few having various other things- like turbans (and one that some Jewish men wore, that Remus, for the life of him, could not remember, despite being Jewish himself.) He had talked about what they wore, their accents or lack thereof, and he...he was quite well about it all.

(Remus, while Harry wasn’t looking, rubbed his face with a huff as he reminded himself he still had a lot to learn. Including talking properly. On their trip, Remus had stumbled over his words and accidentally insulted one of the Jewish cap-wearing men. To add insult to injury? He’s pretty sure he had seen him at the library before too.)

“-Moony, uh, why do’ya have scars on your face?” Maybe he should teach Harry some tact too while he was at it. 

Remus looked up from his sketchbook with an arching eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

Harry, who was sat across from him in the quaint little living room, fidgeted in his seat. The boy anxiously rolled the pen- the one that Remus had transfigured what seemed like an age ago- in his hands. “Well, there’s all these people, who have all these different reasons for having things. Hijabs or shoes, or even the skin tone itself- they all have stories. Hava’ meaning I’m sure, but well, I was wondering about yours. You- you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Remus pursed his lips, unsure of what to do. He didn’t want to tell Harry- to have him fear his guardian on top of everything else, but he also wanted to be truthful to the boy. That’s what he’d have wanted at that age, especially with the recent blows that had been dealt. He sighed. “If I told you it was a werewolf, would you believe me?” 

Harry shrugged, rolling the pen in his hands. “It’s been one of those weeks.” It was still mildly frightening to hear Harry use such....Blatantly adult custom phrases. “Maybe. I’m a wizard, you’re a wizard, why not werewolves?”

With a, well, frightened laugh, he set his sketchbook down and true and well faced Harry. “I had suspect you’d catch onto that. And, well, you’re right. Werewolves are quite real.”

He waited for Harry’s ‘oh’ moment.

It never came. 

“When werewolves bite humans, they become werewolves, bud.” Remus looked down at his hands- they were partially scarred themselves. Pink lines across his skin. 

“Oh.”

There it was.

“What does a werewolf do?” That wasn’t the question he’d expected, even from Harry, who knew next to nothing on wizarding ways. It drew him out of a funk like being dropped into a lake. 

“They, well, I, at least, live normally, as a wizard, muggle, human, in general, and when the time comes for me to change, I have my days scheduled off and...I change into a werewolf. Simple as that, I’m afraid. It’s not pleasant, hurts quite a lot, but, I recover, I always do.”

He looked up to see interested green eyes staring back at him. “Is that how you got the nickname Moony? Because,” Harry giggled, “I’d need to give my dad a high five for that one.”

Remus wanted to cry, of happiness, but cry nevertheless. “Yes, Harry, that’s how I got my nickname.” He was so much like his father in humor, but his mother in temper.

Harry slowly stood up, picking up, ironically, the wolf plush that had caught the boy’s eye, then shuffled over to sit next to Remus. He picked up his guardian’s hand and examined the scars. “You said it hurts, is that how you got these?”

Looking down at his own hand, Remus tilted his head to the side. “In a way. It’s rather...Gruesome, are you sure you want to hear?” Harry nodded. “Well, I don’t get those from the transformation itself, I get those from...when I’m alone in the form, I have to chain myself to something, understand? For the safety of others. The major problems stands, when I’m by myself I bite and scratch at myself to get free. Hence, the scars.”

“What about when you’re not alone? Who’s with you?”

Well, his heart’s already been smashed to smithereens, why not tell the whole tale? 

“I used to have these three friends, tweedy little boys with too much time on their hands if you ask me. And they learned about, oh, how to put it? My furry little problem. They decided they wanted to help. So, they decided to become what is called an animagi, which means they can transform into an animal at will, in order to accompany me so I could chase them around without getting anyone really hurt. You can’t turn someone in their animagi form, since they’re biologically already animals in that time, so they were safe, lest they get a tad too close.

“The whole group had nicknames, I, of course, got Moony, one boy Prongs, another Wormtail, and,” Remus swallowed, “and Padfoot. They were my best mates. Prongs was your father’s nickname, Wormtail was our buddy Peter’s, and, and well, Padfoot was Sirius.”

“Wasn’t Sirius the one to nickname me Harry?” 

Remus used the hand that Harry wasn’t holding to wipe at his eyes. “Yeah, bud, he was. He-” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Well, I must ask you, are you in an information overload? Because, Sirius Black’s has a very long, complicated story, and a tragic one as well.”

Harry was silent for a moment as he set Remus’ hand back down on his pant leg. “A bit, yes. But I want to know more...Could you tell me tomorrow maybe?”

“Yes, yes, Prongslet, we can surely do that.”

\--

It was a week later by the time they had gotten to think of that topic, in that span of time Harry had been enrolled in a school nearby. For after the winter break, he’d come to work with Remus every week day (always with a new book in hand), and had spent that Saturday in somewhat of a funk. A funk in which Remus eventually solved- the boy felt trapped, so, Remus brought him to the park.

(The park trip was an odd experience for the both of them. It included Remus being handed not one, but two strangers’ babies, because evidently he looked like a trustworthy war vet, Harry chatting up a garden snake (Remus hadn’t felt that absolutely terrified in a very long time. Then he took a deep breath and got over it), and Harry’s glasses being smashed.)

The park trip brought up two points that were pretty vital: Harry needed to go see a healer- or, at least a muggle doctor, but a healer would be best, and, he needed to go to the optometrists. 

“I’m twenty-nine years old,” Remus muttered to himself, making the appointment with the eye doctor first. “I’m an adult. With a child. I make doctors appointments like a responsible person. I...I haven’t been an adult in...seven years. This is terrifying.”

“Imagine how scary it is for the rest of us,” said a voice that was definitely not Harry’s.

Remus spun and drew his wand to point at the intruder. “Wh- Bill? What are you doing here?”

He looked over Bill’s shoulder to make sure the door to Harry’s room was still shut. Which, thank Merlin, it was. With a sigh of relief, he switched his attention back to Bill Weasley. 

 

Bill waved him off and went to sit at the counter, in the very same spot Harry was in twenty minutes past for lunch. “I’m here to talk to you about your new charge. Dumbledore knows, and well, he agrees. He’s glad you have him, and he’s also, oddly, if I may add, grateful he doesn’t know where you are. Take that as a threat or an applause for your warding skills. Guessing you know what the big problem is.”

Bill was an odd guy, Remus thought for the thousandth time, he wore all Gryffindor colors still, if a bit muted, with browns intermixed, fingerless gloves, and a bandana around his head. Remus wished he knew a label that Bill could fall under, but frankly, the only thing he got was: huh, weird. 

Remus shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Big fury problem, I’m well aware.”

“Guessing you’ll need a babysitter?” Bill grinned. “One, who, oh, I don’t know, knows where you live, is a wizard, needs a job, and, hey, I don’t mind working full moons.”

With a groan, Remus rubbed his face. “I can’t afford to pay you...What can I do in return?”

Bill tilted his head to the side. “Biscuits.”

Huh, weird.

“You can’t simply-” he blinked rapidly, remembering who Bill’s father was. “Right. Yes of course. Just don’t blow up the toaster.”

“It only happened once, Mr. Lupin, you still can’t be mad about that!” Bill complained.

Remus heard a door creak and quickly composed himself, pointed a finger at Bill, mouthed ‘be still,’ then walked over to where Harry was sitting down on the couch. “Hassan, an unexpected, but welcomed, guest has arrived, may I introduce you?”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and glanced into the kitchen with wide eyes. “Is that Fred or George?”

“What?”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Education is a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wELL HERE WE GO THE FULL BILL PACKAGE

Harry stared at the red-head unblinkingly for a moment before turning to Moony. “On the bus to London, there was these two boys, twins, I think, and they- they told me about wizardry and me being vaguely famous and the likes and well-” He gestured vaguely to the guy at the counter. “He looks just like the two!”

Moony whenever he was exasperated would rub his fingers along one scar on the bridge of his nose and whenever he was tired he did it to the branch on the other side of his nose. 

He was rubbing both sides of his nose. 

“Bill, come in here for a second,” Moony said with a sigh. The guy nodded and walked over- he was nearly a head taller than Moony, and his spiky hair only added to his height. However, he didn’t seem like a particularly imposing man. Teen. He looked young. “Fred and George go to public school now?”

“Yeah, for the semester, dad wanted them to report back to him. What of it?” Bill asked, then turned to Harry. “Oh, my name’s Bill Weasley, you must be Harry, eh? Like London?”

Harry nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

Moony guided Bill to the chair on the opposite side of the couch, then plopped down next to Harry on the couch himself. There was a silence. 

“Well, Harry, in a week and a half is the full moon-”

“-Wait, you’ve already told him?” Bill asked, not unkindly, but a bit incredulously. Harry was eight- almost nine, even, werewolves weren’t a huge deal. At least to him. Plus, he hated it when people talked about him in the room as if he wasn’t there- that’s- that was a Dursley move through and through and he hated it so, so much. 

He pressed closer to Moony, who easily threw an arm around his shoulders.

“Yes, Bill, and he’s right here, you can address him, he’s quite a smart boy.”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Right, sorry. Well, yeah, your- uh, Remus needed someone to watch you while he was out howling at the moon, and I’m the only one who knows where to find you.”

Harry tilted his head to the side. “Is it that magic place-keeper thing? You’re the secret-keeper something?”

“Ah, you’re quick. Yeah, I am. I’m also fresh out of school and my extra classes don’t start for another few months, so I have far too much time on my hands. Plus, I have little brothers who, I’m sure, would be interested to meet you.”

Harry nodded, “It makes sense. I- If Moony trusts you, I do. I just hope that your magic is a bit more...magic-y than Fred’s.”

“You met Fred? You sure? Could have been George.” 

“On the bus, yeah, he tried to, oh, ah. A-blih-e-ate me? Or something? To make me forget, because he thought I was a….” He couldn’t remember the term.

“Muggle. Normal person,” Moony supplied.

Harry nodded. “That. I went along with it because I thought they were crazy.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” Bill laughed. “There is a pack of devils, those two. They drive our mother insane. Always attached at the hip with some mayhem or another in mind.”

The three of them ended up talking for hours, eventually falling on the subject of Hogwarts. “So, you both were in Gryffindor right? What are the other houses? Why are there houses?”

Bill looked over at Moony expectantly. The man sighed, running a finger down the exasperated scar. “Okay, so, in theory, the houses show your most...apparent attributes-”

“Moon.”

“Er, traits. There’s a list of traits for each of them. The four houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. They were named after the founders of the school. Gryffindor is generally known for their courage and chivalry, not to say others don’t share these traits, but, it’s most predominant.” 

“Wait, why would you put a bunch of brave people in a room together? They’d kill each other!”

Moony blinked down at Harry. “I don’t know, but you have a solid point there.” There was something in Moony’s eyes that made him think that there was a story behind his agreement. Maybe it had to do with his father. “And well, then there’s Ravenclaw- they hold intelligence, creativity, and wisdom above all else. Hufflepuffs, to my knowledge, are the most dangerous of the bunch- they’re known for hard work and loyalty. Gryffindors are bad about people messing with their friends, but if you have a sharp minded Hufflepuff? Even Godric Gryffindor himself wouldn’t hold a candle to the matter- during-” He swallowed, “-during a scuffle, Geon Yeun, a brilliant Hufflepuff not only demolished his opponent, but saved everyone else there that was injured. There were dozens of people. 

“And, last but not least, Slytherin, and before Bill interrupts me, they aren’t evil people, you hear me, Harry? Bad people come from everywhere,” The look that Moony gave him reminded him of the time he had talked about his mates from school. “But they’re known to be cunning, ambitious, and resourceful people. They do, generally, get stuck up about something called a pureblood background.”

Bill finally interjected, “A pureblood is a wizard who doesn’t have any muggle-born wizards in their family history. They see them as the weak links.”

“That sounds like racism,” Harry noted, thinking back to their previous conversations containing both racism and muggles who didn’t like magic. “My aunt and uncle were the same way- but- but the opposite. They hated anything odd or freakish.”

Moony ran his hand through Harry’s hair with a sigh. “Yeah, it’s like that. But...There’s a great many who don’t care anymore, I’m sure. It’s just an old thing, starting from the very beginning of the school- of wizarding, in fact.”

“Will I be going to Hogwarts?” Harry decided to change the subject before he started to cry. Again. He’s been crying a lot more since he’s been with Moony, he noted, but he doesn’t particularly mind, it feels safe.

“Pfft, of course!” Bill exclaimed with a grin. “You’re not going to be going to Durmstrang or Ivermony, you’re a Potter- and a Lupin now too! You have a reputation to uphold.”

Moony shook his head and gave Bill a stern look, “We’ll look into it when he turns ten- but yes, Harry, you’ll most likely be going to Hogwarts. Maybe I’ll even give you a few tips on evading obnoxious peers.”

“Were you a troublemaker, Moony?” Harry asked innocently, finally resting into Moony’s side. 

With a short laugh, he shook his head, “That is up for interpretation.”

(Harry noticed a little something odd, Moony was far less...open with Bill Weasley. He didn’t find it intentional- unless it was about some moral lesson, which is mostly what Moony ended up rambling on about. Other times he was...Sharper? He said what needed to be said and was done with it.)

\--

After dinner with Bill, who sleepily announced he was going to head home with a stomach full of clam chowder, Moony and Harry were getting ready for bed, brushing teeth and the likes, when Harry decided to ask, probably with ill timing, “Is it okay that I’m reading all of your books? ‘Cause they’re all magic, and you said I shouldn’t be doing magic yet.”

Moony looked over at him, a toothbrush still in his mouth with toothpaste frothed around his mouth. He blinked, pointed at his mouth, finished, then joined Harry in the living room, where the kid was putting on socks. “You can read all you can understand. You just can’t practice it, it’s a general rule until you’re on the train to Hogwarts or at the place itself. I mean, I can teach a thing or two, but that’s only because I’ve got a teaching licence.”

Harry nodded, “I mean, could…” he ran his hands over his pant legs nervously, “are potions something we can do? Here, I mean? I just, I really think they’re cool and they don’t require actual magic and I mean they said if you had a standard wizarding licence you could do a lot of them because they’re mostly cool small things and like….”

Moony gave him one of those looks, the fond ones that meant that Harry had his full attention. It was cool, yeah, but it was kind of scary. He wasn’t used to it. 

“-I mean, maybe, perhaps when you’re closer to ten than nine, read up well, though, and we can surely do something.”

Harry grinned, “Really?”

Moony nodded, “You have a year until then though, so…” he motioned to Harry’s room. “It’s time for you to go to bed, you can study up tomorrow.”

Laughing, Harry slammed his guardian with a tight hug, then jogged off to his room, where Moony followed to tuck him in. 

\--

The only lights in the hall were occasional flashes of bright, dangerous green that showed silhouettes of dangerous looking figures. Harry was running, running, running to the end of the hall. Each step brought a shock of pain, but he kept moving. He heard a scream at the end of the hall.

The green light stopped flashing and became an intense light all around him- all around the two figures at the end of the hall. Uncle Vernon colored dangerously purple, the vein in his neck jutting out, and his hand around Moony’s neck.

“Moony! Uncle Vernon stop it!” Harry tried to yell as he kept running- only he wasn’t moving anymore. He was stuck. “Please, please stop hurting him! He’s done nothing to you!”

Moony’s hands were wrapped around Vernon’s one around his throat, desperately trying to get free from the hold. His scars were no longer old cuts- they were fresh and bleeding anew and Harry was terrified. 

“Please! Stop!”

He shot up out of bed, his heart pounding out of his chest and tears streaming down his face. With shaky hands, Harry pulled off the covers and bolted to Moony’s room. He at least needed to see that his- his Remus Lupin wasn’t in pain- wasn’t- wasn’t being-

His breathing was terrible, hiccuping sobs making it nearly impossible to take in air. Once he’d opened the door, Harry took a bit of solace in seeing Moony alright, only to panic again when he saw an open cut on the man’s cheek. 

The clock read 2:34 AM, but Harry knew he wouldn’t get back to bed without either fixing that cut or Moony waking up. And he wasn’t going to wake Moony up- what if that was the last straw? What if he was only waiting for one more terrible moment as an excuse to throw him out. Or- or worse, treat him like the Dursleys or worse and it-

“Kiddo, what are you doing up?” A groggy Moony asked, blinking blearily. Harry panicked. He didn’t know what to say. There were obvious tears still streaming down his face and there was no way to get rid of them so quick- “Hassan, come here, come here.”

He opened his arms for Harry to hug him again- again. Moony gave hugs so freely without even a hint of disdain in his voice or face. 

It only made Harry cry more as he he stepped into Moony’s arms. Moony picked him up and sat him down on the bed, well, more in his lap as he cried. “Hey, hey, you’re alright. You’re here in London with me, we had chowder last night with Bill, and you’re under my protection- no one will hurt you while I’m around.” 

Harry buried his face into the crook of Moony’s neck. He smelled like herbs, like the earth, books, and well, he smelled a bit dog-ish. But it was a good dog-ish. It was...Grounding. It was an intense version of what the whole house smelled like. And the fabric- oh, oh no! “I’m s-sorry, Moony,” he said trying to pull back a bit, “I’m ruining your nightshirt.”

“Don’t worry about it, cub. It’s just a silly old shirt, you’re infinitely more important,” Moony’s eyes were wide, but understanding as he looked at Harry. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Harry nodded and breathed in a shaky breath, then when a wave of panic came over him again, he cried, “It- Vernon- you and- he was- and I-I couldn’t help! I’m just a freak who can’t do anything!”

“No. No. No. You’re Hassan James Potter-Lupin. You’re a kind, brilliant boy. Not just anyone can get away from a bad situation like that. You are not a freak, okay? You’re just an eight year old boy with a beating heart.” Remus tapped on Harry’s chest. “And on top of that, I’m fine. Just the same as I was when I went to bed last night- Vernon hasn’t got me, nor anyone else. You’re a sharp kid, is anything different?”

Harry tapped Moony’s cheek, the one that had the cut on it. Moony mimicked the motion. “Hm, well, I do think that one was my fault. I need to trim my nails quite soon.”

Moony sighed and pulled Harry back into a tighter hug, then pulled back. “Do you think you can sleep again?”

Harry shrugged, not in his room, no, not a chance. 

“Would it help if you slept in here?” 

Harry nodded, looking embarrassedly down at his hands,. Hands that were missing Amanda, his stuffed wolf. “Well, let’s get Amanda then, and you can stay in here with me.”

Huh, he must of said that aloud. Or Moony knew him really well.

\--

[Remus held Harry like his own teddy bear after the nightmare he’d had. One where he’d hurt the boy with the Wolf.]

\--

The next day, Harry found himself sitting down on the couch, a book in one hand, Amanda the Wolf in the other. He’d slept wonderfully with Moony there, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed that he couldn’t fend for himself. His number one rule. It- it was damn awful! 

If he could run away from home, lie his way away from strangers, and get around a foreign city with ease, then it should be basic to deal with nightmares on his own!

“Harry, you alright?” It was early morning, so Moony didn’t have work until later. He’d forgotten about that. 

He looked up into his guardian’s worried eyes. “Yeah, I just, can’t concentrate on my book. That’s all.”

Moony’s eyebrow shot up like a rocket. 

“...I’m just thinking about last night. I can’t even handle a nightmare on my own anymore, it’s….sad, Moony, I’m almost nine, I shouldn’t….”

“I had night terrors up until I was twelve,” Moony shook his head, paused, then continued, “It’s terrible to deal with nightmares on your own- why not get me? Wouldn't that be easiest? To share the weight of a bad dream? I don’t want you to deal with things just because you can. I want you to deal with things independently, but smartly, if you can’t sleep after a bad dream? Or you’re crying? At all? Come get me. I promise I’ll do the same.”

“You said you had an ugly cry.”

“I do, so it’s even more embarrassing. If my ugly cry can do it, your angel tears can as well.”

Harry cracked a small smile. “Okay.”

\--

It was another three nights before the topic of Sirius Black came up again, a whole four nights before the full moon. It was...stressing Moony out, Harry noted.

“I...you said he was one of your best friends, but you talk about him….like he’s done something terrible. Has he?”

Moony looked down at him where Harry sat at the counter in the kitchen. His guardian’s eyes were shimmering and sad. Angry, somewhere in there, but mostly….defeated. It wasn’t a look that Harry was fond of. 

“Well, to talk about Sirius Black, we first need to talk about a man named Voldemort.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hah ah a h a a get ready to suffer like i did while writing this


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happened. What will happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahhaaa,,,,sUFFER SCUM
> 
> and also this is a massive chapter so good lucko
> 
> ALSO THERE IS A PANIC ATTACK IN HERE IT"S PRETTY MINOR BUT IT"S DEF THERE
> 
> the two chapters after this are pretty small and just soft and quaint and stuff

Remus knew this was going to come up at some point soon….he had just hoped it hadn’t been this soon. The topic still made his heart pound erratically, his palms sweat, and his general anxiety rise a dozen levels. 

He tried his best not to outwardly show it, he tried to be as composed as he could stand to be, but the war was still fairly fresh in his mind. The people killed, the curses used, the Unforgivables shouted back and forth, and the betrayal of his closest mate. Some nights, he’d wake up and jump at any noise because sometimes his body forgot that he was no longer at war.

But Harry deserved to know. It was his birthright- well, his scar-right, to be technical. The man killed his parents, and left him with a title no child should bear, and the reason his was sent to those dreadful muggles in the first place.

(He still dreadfully wanted to avoid the topic.)

He sat down beside Harry at the counter and began telling of the war, how it started, how Tom Riddle turned into Voldemort, how he gained followers, why Slytherins were so involved, why many were not, how teenagers turned into soldiers, and a little bit about the Marauders role in it all.

“We were just soldiers, Harry, important members, but not terribly so. Your parents were among the best, along with your distant cousin Neville’s parents….then there was a prophecy, a big, dangerous one which only Albus Dumbledore knows the entirety of. It said that a certain child would bring the end of the Dark Lord- Voldemort took that to be you….I'm sorry you have to hear about all of this, you're still so young….”

“I'm nine in just a few months!” Harry exclaimed- he looked a tad shaken, but not overly so. Not nearly as bad as Remus had been expecting. “And- and it's like….learning about WW2, just more….at home.” 

“Why don't you grab some blankets, I'll make some tea so we can have a right and we'll story time on the couch,” Remus said kindly. “It'll be more comfortable for me and my old back.” And Harry's the sort to like physical contact when distressed and that gave Remus a good excuse to have the boy close.

Once they resettled, Harry was pressed up against his side, a warm cup of tea in his hands. “What happened after Voldemort decided it was me?”

“He, well, he tried to kill you, Hassan. It- it was Sirius who had given the information to him, at least as far as we know, and,” Remus traced his finger over the rim of his lilac mug. “Voldemort came to your home with that knowledge- it was under the charm our house is under now. He had killed your parents- but not before Lily gave you powerful magic to protect you. And when he went to strike the killing blow, it was reflected back to him. I- I’m sorry, Harry. Voldemort is gone now, things have changed, but...There is a reason I was third in line for godfathers.”

Harry took a sip of his tea, oddly calm about the whole ordeal, oddly calm about the war, about Voldemort, about his parents deaths, about everything. It made Remus at tad more ill at ease concerning what Harry had gone through, but thankful he hadn’t...that telling Harry hadn’t been detrimental to his health. 

“Sirius next went after Peter, where in a flash of a spell, Peter was reduced to almost nothing- and there were many other dead from such a curse. It was a terrible day, Harry. He had done terrible things...but, I still find it odd. Something seems off about the story. Because- because just a few weeks before Sirius had told the Dark Lord, there had been an incident. Sirius took you to visit your grandparents, the ones on your father’s side, and well, the Death Eaters had found out where not particularly you were, at the time, but where Sirius was.

“He had stashed you somewhere secret while the Potters tried to fend them off- it didn’t work, not for long, but it gave you a chance...Sirius was tortured for hours before James and I arrived. There was no way to make it up, either, his body and magic showed signs of it. I just- I’m not sure, Harry, I’m not sure.”

“The world isn’t black and white,” Harry whispered, setting down his tea to hold Amanda closer. “Sirius...Something worse may have been pit against him, or perhaps his fellow Death Eaters hated him. It…it may have been knowledge not freely given either, it- you said there were spells for that, he was tortured…And without a body, a real body from Peter...The police force in the UK would not stand to bring in a man under such….du-duvious circumstances.”

“Dubious,” Remus corrected absentmindedly, running over what Harry had said. “I wish, Harry, I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not sure if better safe than sorry applies in such a situation- he- he and I….”

Harry looked up at him with those big, green eyes. Lily always had that look in her eyes when she just got an idea. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

Remus’ eyes burned as he fought back tears. Still, he tried to casually set down his mug on the coffee table. “Yes, Harry, yes I did.”

“Either way it must be terrible, with someone you love for being wrongly imprisoned, or betraying you. I’m sorry, Moony.” With that the flood of tears gave way. Remus more so than Harry, but Harry was still crying with apt certainty.

Remus opened his arms for a hug- though it was more for his benefit than Harry’s that time around. Harry, the wonderful kid he was, didn’t hesitate to accept it. 

Seven years in prison for a horrendous crime.

God, Sirius Black. Damn that man.

\--

Remus was sitting by himself at his desk, while Harry was taking a bath, when it hit him again- he was raising his godson. James and Lily and Peter and Sirius and so many other people were gone.

He was the only one left. 

He ran his hand through his hair, then rubbed the bridge of his nose, then finally decided that he was tired. God, God he was so tired. 

Being a werewolf unexpectedly at a young age? Harrowing. Becoming a father-figure to your dead mate’s son at twenty-nine? Tiring. Shell shocking, heart breaking, and terrifying. But totally and undeniably, tiring.

Harry was a good sort, a kind boy who had manners because he wanted to be as nice as he could. Self-reliant (perhaps too much so at times). Brilliant. Eloquent. Insightful. Charming. 

He was the perfect blend of his parents and the boy didn’t even know it.

But, Merlin and Magic, Remus Lupin was bone tired. Harry and he combined had nightmares upon nightmares. Harry still flinched at any quick movement from anyone aside Remus. Remus’ left hand would tremble and tremble and tremble when he was particularly stressed (a gift from a Cruatious Curse cast upon him many years ago.) Harry still was ashamed of being himself- brown, magic, smart, if it was a trait he had, the boy berated himself on it. (Remus was trying his best to come up with impromptu speeches of why he should not be ashamed with anything of the sort, but, well, Remus wasn’t the best at those, and Harry was still rather stubborn.)

All and all, it was a mess and Remus’ stress levels were through the roof, and, yes, his hand would not stop trembling. 

He did the only thing he could think of in that moment- 4:00 AM, sitting on the couch -he prayed. He wasn’t much of a religious man, didn’t go to temple, didn’t know much Hebrew, and he surely didn’t comply with many temple’s guidelines, anyhow. But he did celebrate Hanukkah, he did pray on various occasions, and did believe in God. 

He prayed for God to guide him, to give Harry solace, to...help the boy in any way he could. 

(He also, in a much more minor detail, prayed for a break without worry.)

\--

“Moony, are you sure you’ll be alright?” Harry asked for the thousandth time that day. “I’m just worried, I mean, you’ve hurt yourself before and I don’t want you to get more hurt and I- I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I can’t guarantee I won’t be coming home with a new scar, however,” Remus crouched down in front of Harry with a small smile, even though it killed his joints, so soon before the full moon, “I know that I’ll be coming back real soon. Probably with a terrible ache in my back- but I’ll be back. Three days, maximum. Will you be quite alright with that?”

Harry’s face twitched, the hand that held Amanda by the paw seemed to tighten as well. “Well, as alright as I’m gonna get, I bet. Just be safe. I...I’ll bake some cookies. You allergic to anythin’?”

Remus’ heart was going to burst of sheer adorableness. “No. Go wild.”

His godson shot over to hug him- nearly toppling him over-and whispered, “I’ll find you if you die- you’ll regret it.”

Remus was mildly panicked about the sincerity of that statement.

\--

Just as promised, Remus returned. Returned to Harry and Bill with a metric ton of pudding. Everywhere. Cakes. Tarts. Anything and everything Remus could think of. 

“What happened?”

“Fun fact: Harry stress bakes,” Bill said sheepishly, gesturing around the apartment. “He’s gone to bed but- uh.”

Remus looked around his shabby little apartment yet again. His eyes must have been as wide as saucers, he noted absentmindedly, also, something was missing.

He thought deeply for another moment then softly remarked,

“He said he was going to make cookies.”

\--

“Harry, you’re about to start school up again,” Remus said kindly, walking over to where the boy was sat- his eyes glued to some book (potions it looked like? Maybe it was muggle baking?) “Maybe we can take all these extra treats on Monday to your new school mates?”

Harry always seeme to look nervous when Remus mentioned anything pertaining school. 

The boy slowly sat down his book and looked up at Remus with wide eyes, “Won’t they...think I poisoned it, or something?”

“Why in the world would they think that?” 

Harry directed his gaze down and gave a small shrug- his eyes twitched to his hand.

“Hassan, cub, come on, just because you have dark skin doesn’t mean that everyone suspects you of foul play! If there are any, they are the minority. And, you should tell me about them so I can deal with them.” Remus sighed, picking up a tart. “Plus, if we keep this baking around the house much longer, I’m going to gain fifteen pounds.”

Harry snorted, then glanced up with a small smile. “We wouldn’t want that.”

“Well, my doctor wouldn’t.”

\--

The next day Harry had an eye doctor appointment, one where Remus knew Harry could get his glasses by the end of the day. Harry ended up...quite blind, actually, and, true to his old pair, he bought round glasses- Remus suggested he get the really big ones so they looked cooler.

(Harry giggled and nodded.)

(Harry had been giggling a lot.)

\--

The day following that, Harry was on edge, more anxious than Remus had seen him since the trial- over a month ago by then.

Harry spent every moment reading and reading and reading. Since day one, in fact, since Remus was hard pressed to afford a telly. Remus almost felt embarrassed that he, the librarian, didn’t even read that much. The boy was reading anything and everything- he was reading up to a secondary school level, which...was kind of amazing. 

The constant books in his hands, however, were of potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts which Remus had from his school years….Remus had to note, if Harry only was a little bit more drawn to charms- the boy would have been a spitting image of his parents. 

Harry, Remus noted with a bittersweet smile, also loved books on mythology, just like his true godfather, Sirius Black.

\--

Remus was walking into the school beside Harry, a hand on the boy’s shoulder, when the kid abruptly stopped. 

Harry’s eyes were going straight forward and were unfocused, his breathing was weird, and- oh Merlin, the boy was having an anxiety attack!

Running over what James and Sirius used to do for his attacks, he stepped in front of Harry and crouched down. “Cub? Kiddo, look at me. You’re safe you know? You’re here with me, Moony. Can I hold your hand?”

Harry nodded mutely. 

Taking his godson’s hand, Remus started quietly saying more reassuring items until Harry was eventually pulled from the attack and fell into Remus’ arms for a hug. He held the boy tight, terrified for his cub, the boy was more like him than he thought.

(He was also terrified of what brought on such an attack...One he’d have to investigate later on. Bullies, he suspected.)

\--

Remus had spent the entire day at work superbly anxious, shelving and reshelving books, looking through every little order and section to try and find a mistake. His left hand was practically useless, it was shaking so bad.

His button shirt seemed too tight, his cardigan scratched at his arms, at his neck, and he was pretty sure that he-

“Remus,” Aul’i, the main worker in the children’s section, said softly. “You don’t seem terribly well, what’s wrong? Is it about Harry?”

Remus, in a momentary moment of weakness at his work place, began to blabber like a real gum flapper.

“He’s gone back to school, for the first time since I got him, and...It’s nerve wracking, Aul’i. I’m terrified. What if he gets bullied like at his old school? What if all my reassurances proved false? Will they tease him because he’s got brown skin, just like Harry’s afraid of? What if he doesn’t make a friend? What- what if he doesn’t get fed enough? What if the teachers don’t like him? What if he’s put on the spot? What if he has another anxiety attack? What if he gets in trouble on his first day? What-”

“Mate,” a man’s voice said from behind. “Calm down. Your boy will be alright. They always are.” Remus spun around to see a handsome man with bright blue eyes, tan skin, and dark hair- he must be Spanish. And, Merlin, attractive. “My ex-wife used to be the same way, but after my daughter’s first week of school, both she and little Carla were fine.”

Remus nodded, breathing in and out. “You’re probably right...I just- I just got him after he’d had been in a real tough spot, I don’t want him to deal with that again.”

The man nodded sincerely, then glanced at the clock. “When do you have lunch?”

“Uhm, 12:08 till 1:30, why?”

Aul’i grinned like a madwoman out of Remus’ peripheral vision. 

“I’m supposed to pick up my daughter at 3:20, so I thought I might use my free time to alleviate my boredom. Is that quite alright with you? Let me buy you lunch.”

Swallowing, Remus nodded dumbly. 

“See you in half an hour then, I still need to pick up my books for my uni project. Masters and all that.”

Again, Remus nodded dumbly, watching the man go- in his nice blue jeans, green button up, and brown vest, then looked down at the book in his hands.

Goodnight, Moon. Remus hoped that wasn’t foreshadowing.

\--

Remus and the man, Andre, had quickly came to like one another. They talked about Carla, who was four, and Harry, who was eight, they talked about Andre’s ex-wife, who he was still close with, they talked about Remus’ writing hobby, one to which he had to give the name of his blog since Andre was insisting, and they also talked about how to help Harry with his anxiety. Andre, Remus thought wistfully, was wonderful.

“Remus Lupin, Moon Moon,” Andre laughed, drawing Remus out of his thoughts. “Are you a werewolf, Mr. Lupin?” 

Remus nodded solemnly. It wasn’t even lying. He thought it was hilarious when that came up around muggles, though, around wizards it wasn’t so nice.

There was a beat, and an odd expression flitted across Andre’s face. It was only there for a moment, but it...It was surely there. The look changed a bit, into a calmer one, a...happier one.

“...Uh, Remus, did you by any chance go to a school in Scotland? With, ah, four mascots. And, well, not study math for seven years?” His conversational partner said with uncharacteristic shyness. 

Remus suddenly felt panic seize him. He nodded. “Hogwarts.”

“Me too,” Andre ran a hand through his hair. “Merlin, I knew you were familiar, but I wasn’t sure from where. Are you truly a werewolf?”

Remus nodded again, dumbly.

“I’m sorry, that must have been rough if you had to brave McGonagall's courses missing so many days.” A beat. “Remus, are you crying?”

Remus nodded. 

“...Not a usual reply?”

Remus nodded.

“Speak man, what news?”

“Did you just quote a musical about Shakespeare to me?”

Andre nodded with his perfect smile, perfect hair, and stupid earrings. “I thought you were a man of good taste. Maybe we can meet up again. Maybe over a pint.”

Remus couldn’t feel his own head on his shoulders- it felt as if he was floating. “I’ll write you, Andre….”

“Andre Carbonilla. I live here in muggle London, too. I...well, I moved in for my wife, and when we split, I couldn’t bare to bid the place farewell.”

Remus sharply exhaled and grinned down at his empty plate. “I get what you mean.”

\--  
Harry rushed right into Remus’ arms when the school bell rang, a wide smile on his face. “I made a friend! I think. His name is Leo! He's so cool! He speaks two and a half languages! He's teaching me the Spanish! I...you were right! They loved the food! I'm...the new cool kid!”

Remus laughed and kissed the top of Harry's head. “I told you so, come on, let's go celebrate.”

Harry's Red scarf was blowing in the wind as the two walked- well, Harry more like skipped, down the sidewalk, “Where are we going Moony?”

“I was told by a new friend of my own of an old book shop on fourth. If you want to walk it, you can buy four books of your choice for the next month. Sound good?” 

Harry tightened the straps on his backpack with a fake-serious expression. “‘We must carry on in our voyage, a widower’s woman does not sleep.’”

“I’ll restrict your classical options if you keep this up,” Remus teased, a bit of a jump in his step with all the good happening, despite all the bad. “...How far are you with the potions books, by the way?”

“...Far enough to realize I want to be a potion master, Moony, they’re so many things to invent that no one even knows of-- all while practically making soups! Or- or maybe an Auror or teacher or- Moony, I love potions more than I love cats. I am in the second year course book now.”  
Remus nodded, oh the woes of young kids and where they’ll go. “If you baking skills are anything to go by? You’ll be wonderful. I also saw you taking an interest in DADA?”

“Yeah,” Harry fiddled with his scarf for a moment before looking up. “I was hit by the killing curse, the worst curse of all. I learned that yesterday. Not just...any typical one...the worst...It’s all so fascinating...but it’s kinda scary right now. I’ve been reading potions because...they’re easier to stomach, I guess.”

Putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, he spoke calmly, “Well, if you ever do want to work more...with Defense, I was an Auror, technically, but, I did get my extra courses in to become a professor. And, well, that was my best subject. You’re right, it’s scary, but in our world? We need to know it. It’s like….dangerous muggle taxes. They’re there and they’re coming for you. Sometimes. People use evasion tactics all the time.”

Remus kind of knew that joke would fly over Harry’s head, so he felt a bit bad for blatantly doing it.

“...Let me finish with the coursework for year two, then...then maybe. I guess.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hEY THERE:S A BIT OF SPANISH BUT IT"S LIKE SPANISH ONE SO IT SHOULDBT BE THAT BAD  
> IF U WANT A TRANSLATION TELL ME
> 
> ....KIND OF ANGST KIND OF FLUFF HAVE FUN

Harry loved books. Well, he didn’t so much love books, but he loved the power that he held when he knew something. Knowledge was power, and books were filled to the brim. 

He didn’t want to be powerful...just to be powerful, no, he wanted to be powerful to survive. To be able to tell when something can save or end your life. That’s what he wanted. He didn’t….he didn’t like all eyes on him.

But he liked to know that when they were, because it always seems to happen, that they’d see a more poised boy than the one Moony was subject to. One that knew how to create a potion to save someone’s life, to make them dance, to make them happy or sad or just….defend himself against against people with terrible agendas. 

Harry did also quite like fiction novels. Maybe he did just like books and power was an added bonus. He really liked classical period wizarding.

“Hassan, you want to learn about something interesting?” Moony said after the two had wandered around the shop for a while. “Your father, our friends, and I had a great many debate topics. Something that every one of us disagreed on.”

Suddenly, a thick book was in his hands, it read Religions and What They Do. It was a newer book with crisp pages and a simple cover with a shiny blue background.

“Sirius was pagan of some sort, something with nature and its happenings. Your father was Muslim. Lily and Peter were Christians. Though Lily converted to marry your father, she still was Christian. I'm Jewish. It's...up to you, whatever path you chose to follow, or chose not to. I don't know, religion was always a pretty strong force of hope for me, I hope you can find that too.” Moony was looking a bit shy, talking so blatantly. The man could speak on moral issues for hours, but he had trouble talking long about anything else he believed.

Harry nodded, running his hands over the book before opening it. “Sounds good, Moony. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were Christians, I'd like to see more than just that…” They thought he was unholy, but that was aside the matter, they thought nearly everything was unholy. 

His guardian nodded, looking back at the bookshelves, his lips pursed. He looked like he wanted to say more but couldn't find the words to do it.

Harry began to flip through the book, going straight to the Muslim section, wanting to see what his father...believed in. What his father was influenced by.

“Moony,” Harry called out, looking at the reason why women wear hijabs. “Why don't men wear hijabs? They were supposed to be about helping women stopped from being picked out in a crowd, but, men are targeted too now...why are things so bad? Why can't we just….” he trailed off, holding the book close to his chest.

“I, well, I'm not sure. Some men wear turbans, for the sake of modesty now, I think, which is why many women where hijabs.” Moony shrugged, sending a small smile over to him. “There's a mosc not too far from where we live, if you want to visit and learn. I, uhm, I'm afraid I don't know much.”

“Did my father wear a turban?” he asked quietly. 

“He, well, he….” Moony looked hard pressed to explain. “Let me grab you another book, because you need to understand some, well, theory, before I can explain what your father wore.”

His godfather disappeared behind shelves. Shaking his head, Harry began to read more, all the things that people did. The pillars. Moscs and what they were like. It...seemed really cool. 

What seemed like moments later, though it was probably closer to ten minutes, Moony rounded the corner again, another book in his hands, it was a bit smaller than the one on religion. “You need to know about this.”

Gender Theory, Sexuality, and General Chaos For Kids by...S. Black and R. Lupin.

“You and Sirius wrote a book?” Harry said in awe, running his hands over the book. It was rainbow colored with bold letters and raised print. “That's so cool. When did you ever have time to write it?”

Moony ran his finger over his tired scar. “We started it in school, we finished it...the year you were born, actually. I wrote one recently for teenagers, but I think this one will make more sense at this point.”

Nodding, he flipped through the book. It was...weird. Cool, but something he'd need to sit down and read to understand. He looked up to find Moony had gone again.

Weird.

\--

Once they got home and Harry finished his homework, the boy ventured out to go find Moony, who was staring at the back flap of the book he wrote. The man's lips were pressed together thinly and his eyes sad. And angry. But mostly sad.

Harry inched closer, but stayed out of sight for the moment, he wanted to actually know and not get the censored version that Moony would give him. Soon, he was able to see what was on the page-- a picture of him and Sirius. Oh.

He found himself conflicted. The man, by all accords of the Ministry, was guilty and responsible for the death of his parents, but on the other hand, Moony couldn't truly believe his other godfather had done it. And Moony’s word, while hesitant on the matter, did seem to hold truth. 

He just- he just wished he could meet his parents, just once more. Maybe then he could be more...open to understand Sirius. He even called the man Sirius! Not Black!

“Cub, I know you're there,” Moony’s voice was always soft. Harry gave him a bashful smile as he went and sat next to the man. “Sorry, I'm sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Harry asked, curling up into Moony's side. 

“I...I'm a really bad guardian. I still...I still love the- the terrible man who lead to the death of your parents, who killed my best friends. I wish I didn't I just…” Moony's lips went back into that flat line. 

Harry swallowed roughly. There was two options here. Three, if he was generous. One was stupid, one was cautiously open, and the other was a blatant lie. 

“That doesn't make you a bad guardian, Moony,” Harry said hesitantly. “It makes you human. You love who you love, it….it isn't always the best for your head, your heart….but, if you still love Sirius? It's...immovable. I….I won't hold that against you. I still love my Aunt and Uncle along with my cousin and- and they were terrible.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “I trust you to be smart.”

“I'm trying to be.” Moony set the book down and wrapped an arm around Harry. For a moment, it seemed alright.

\--

Two weeks later, Harry had finished his religion book and was onto reading the book Moony wrote when there was a- a bird? There was a bird at the window. An owl even!

He bounded up with a grin, he heard this is how stuff was sent in the wizarding world! Quickly, he opened the window and picked off the note on the bird’s ankle. It was tiny, rolled up letter.

“Moony, you got mail!” Harry called as he unraveled the letter. “Some guy named Andre!” He scanned the letter out of habit and gasped. “You got a date?!”

His mouth was agape as Moony came out of his room, bright red. The man snatched the letter out of his hands. “You are doing the dishes for that! Don't read my mail!”

Just earlier that year, Harry would be scared of such words, but he simply grinned. Moony was obviously trying hard not to do so as he was ruby red. 

“And, yes, I got a date. And no, you can't meet him yet. And yes, I've arranged with Leo’s mom that you can go over Friday, now, shoo!” Moony poked his shoulder then pointed to the couch. “Go read your book.”

Skipping off, Harry grinned even more wickedly. “Sure, Moon-Moon, I’ll leave you be.”

“You’re your father’s son, that’s for sure,” Moony muttered reading over the letter. 

\--

Leo was a tall boy for his age, curly brown hair that he kept long, wide brown eyes, light brown skin, and had big round glasses like Harry.

He was Harry’s best friend, and really, first one too. He lived a little ways away in the suburbs of London, in a big blue house with massive windows. Leo’s mom, Maria, was a doctor back in Mexico, and when they moved to London, she picked right back up at a local hospital. And, on top of that, Leo’s mama, Mary, was an architect in Columbia and designed the house herself.

And the coolest thing about the family? They spoke a creole of Spanish, English, French, and Portuguese. And they were teaching him some Spanish!

“Leo!” Harry grinned, running from under Moony’s hand into Leo’s open arms. “Uh. Cómo estás? Estoy muy bien!”

“Yo también!” Leo said just as excitedly, leaning down to kiss Harry lightly on the cheek just like his moms did with their friends. When he let go, he asked Harry, “Es el tu papa?”

“...Kinda. Es un amigo de mi padre? He’s my guardian,” Harry said, a bit frustrated with his lack of Spanish.

Moony waved shyly at the two of them before turning to Maria and Mary and speaking quietly with them.

Harry turned back to Leo, “He’s Moony, he’s kinda like...my uncle, you know? But he’s really like my dad.”

“That’s cool! Why do you call him Moony then, if he’s like your dad?” Leo asked as he led his friend inside. 

“Well, I have a dad, kinda, he’s dead now, but, he and my mom...he’s my dad.” Harry felt a tad awkward as he walked behind Leo, unsure of what to do while visiting someone’s house. The closest he’s had was Mrs. Figg. And she was terrible, so that doesn’t count. 

“You have two dads?” Leo asked bounding into a room full of toys. 

Harry tilted his head to the side, “I guess I do.”

“That's so cool!”

\--

Moony stepped into the room that Harry and Leo were building a pillow fort in. “Alright, cub, I'm about to go. I'll be back no later than eleven, but probably closer to nine.”

Harry poked his head out from under the big, blue, green, and red pillow fort. “Promise to call if you’re past nine?”

“I solemnly swear,” Moony said with a laugh. “And am I going to get a hug before I leave or…?”

Harry wormed his way out of the pillow fort, nearly toppling the thing before barrelling into his...dad. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kiddo, but I won’t be gone for long. Ten divertido con tu amigo.”

Harry blinked. “You speak Spanish?”

“They teach it at the library. So a little bit. Now, go on. Have fun!”

The boy beamed then dived back into the pillow fort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope u enjoyed!! one more chap left!!


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starts hell, ends well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thIS IS IT FOR THIS GUYS
> 
> it's gonna be gr8 writing the other little bits of this!! i have a few things in the works already!!  
> at the end of this chap is going to be a little list of things i'm planning (cross my fingers) to write and pop up and about up until aprilish, then crack my knuckles and get to work on the Harry At Hogwarts Trope,,,,with a few twists, you know, as you do.
> 
> sooo,,,,hOPE YOU ENJOY

Remus ran his hands over his thighs, trying to smooth out the wrinkles before Andre came. He was due in five minutes. At an American food ‘joint.’ Merlin, this was going to be either a nightmare or the best thing ever.

“Remus,” Andre’s voice chimed from behind him. “You ready to go inside?” He offered his hand to Remus with a grin.

“I guess so.”

\--

Once they got situated at the booth, Remus anxiously messed with his napkin. It was a pretty place, soft red and yellow mood lighting covering everything. “It's a pretty place.”

“It is, weird, but pretty,” Andre said smoothly. “How have you been?”

“Other than blatantly nervous about this date? Looking after my kid is a wonderful nightmare.”

“Then you and I are one in the same right now.”

\--

When Remus Lupin went to go pick up Harry, right at 9:10, shortly after he had called the boy, he was still beaming from his...frankly fantastic date. Andre was sweet, a little cocky, but still kind. He...was reminded of this Marauder days, and the good ones at that. 

“You look happy,” Maria said with a sly grin, “date go well?” She was out on the front porch, a book in hand. 

“I haven't had that nice of a date for...nearly a decade. He's a sweetheart. Kind of reminds me of Harry’s dad.”

Her eyes flickered to the side, then back to him. “Were you married?”

Remus startled. “Oh! No, no, nothing of the sort. I was a groomsman at his wedding with Lily. They past a while back, I just got custody of Harry.”

She stood up with a languid grace only mothers had, staring him down. “Why did you not have him before?”

He swallowed, suddenly very frightened by the look she was giving him. And, well, he couldn't read it worth a damn. “He went to his aunt and her family, not good people, Harry ran away, ran into me, and it just so happened I was trying to get custody for years. He was my best friend’s son.”

Her gaze softened into a look of understanding, “good, I was worried I'd half to keep a closer eye on you, if there was any reason why you didn't get him right away and went into the system.” 

“Well, it also didn't help that his first listed godfather was put into a life sentence due to murder.”

“Ah.”

\-- 

“Moony,” Harry said a few weeks later while they sat in the living room, reading. “I've been here for five months, I think.”

“Yes,” Remus looked up from his book. “Any particular reason for it to be noted.” 

“Are you my dad?” The boy asked, looking up from his book. 

The question took Remus by surprise, nearly dropping his book. “I...well, Harry, I'm your guardian. Do you want me to be your dad? I don't want to take the place of James if you…”

Green eyes were wide and not breaking eye contact, though Remus desperately wanted to look away. “I want a dad, James is my dad too, but...he's not here. I need…”

“I guess I'm your dad then.”

\--

With Harry pressed to his side, dead asleep, Remus quietly talked on the phone to Andre. “Tomorrow, do you want to go to dinner with the kids?”

It was silent for a beat. “I'm so not explaining to my daughter that he’s the boy that lived.”

Remus snorted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh short and sweet and a little bit of angst but mostly happy!!
> 
> dad!remus finally liiiiveeeessss. andre is cooooolllll, Carla is cominnnnngggg. 
> 
> things to look forward to in the series:
> 
> -Harry Gets Therapy!  
> -Yom Kippur, Hanukkah, Christmas, Ramadan, and various things in the holiday season!!  
> -we meeT RON  
> -mystery guest of doooooommmm (jk we meet dumbledore who's a badass but also kinda An Ass)  
> -anothER MYSTERY GUEST (jk it's snape, remus tries to make amends for Hassan, snape's petty, hassan's cute and vicious, snape relents bc that boy is a slytherin and he's gonna have to deal with him for years....)  
> -Sad My Parents Are Dead Scene That Suddenly Turns Heartwarming  
> -Y E T ANOHT ER MYSTERY GUEST (u totally know who it is because i'm a Sap but i'm not telling u here. first person to guess who it is correctly gets a mini fic written in their honor!!)  
> -Harry's personal library and Remus' prompt realization of how much harry actually knows about magic at this point  
> -MINERVA  
> -HAGRID
> 
> ,,,,,that's pretty much it for right now. THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING. ENTER THE GUEST SURPRISE BELOW AND WIN A PRIZE
> 
> unTIL NEXT TIME,  
> matt!
> 
> CURRENT GUESSES:  
> -remus' parents (no, but i'll be taking that)  
> -andomeda (you guys are seriously waY better at remembering people than i am)  
> -sirius (the most popular one, however, sadly, no. he'll be here in the Harry Is Finally At Hogwarts trope tho.)  
> -hermione (kinda yes?? she was going to be in the holiday one, but technically no.)
> 
> KEEP GUESSING YA'LL

**Author's Note:**

> hey my kiddos, people have been wanting more Harry so hERE WE ARE
> 
> this kind of has a plot???/ it does but like,,,,,this is the Background for (probably) a series of short fics surrounding Harry at hogwarts???? tell me if ya want
> 
> anyway, winter break, more writing time, expect more hp!!
> 
> drop a comment and/or a kudos if you will
> 
> matt out


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